The Eight Lights
by Eleclyn Starmaker
Summary: Patricia M. Knight was the best of friends to Remus Lupin -- she was there when he was bitten. **Not a Remus/OC Romance and not slash** 6/25/03 -- NOT AN UPDATE -- AUTHOR'S NOTES! PLEASE READ!
1. Prologue

Prologue – Taken from the Writings of Patricia M. Knight

            I was a melancholy child and, according to my uncle, I still am.  There were very few points of bright lights of happiness in my childhood, and very few of them remain.  Four have been extinguished by the shadow of death; one is currently recovering from Azkaban.  Of the final three – one dies of old age while the other slowly fades with each passing full moon and the third one has been put out by a fist of evil.

            Yet, when I was a child, and later a teen, the eight lights, those eight people, were the main reasons I remained alive and sane.  My parents, who were killed by Voldemort when I was seventeen, were my main supporters.  They raised me to be a unique person – to not follow the crowd.  I miss and love them dearly, and I still treasure the lessons they taught me.

            The late couple – James and Lily Potter – yet another pair of innocent victims lost to Voldemort's terrifying reign.  Those two wonderful people – one a marauder, the other Head Girl of Hogwarts – were taken unfairly from this world, leaving their memory in one small boy – Harry Potter.  Harry Potter, simply the name is often full of wonder when spoken.  "The Boy Who Lived," the poor child is called.  Most look upon him with wonder, admiration, and pity.  I look upon him as an equal and treat him as one.  Harry Potter is no ordinary boy – that is both obvious and agreed upon by my uncle – thus he should not be treated like every other child.

            My uncle, the legendary Albus Dumbledore, my mother's brother, is a beacon of life for many, but his influence on my own life is greater than words can describe.  Dumbledore took me in after my parents' death and was a pillar of strength and life for me.  After all, he is Albus Dumbledore and is loved by all but Voldemort and his followers.

            Peter Pettigrew, the traitorous wretch, was once a light of happiness in my life as well.  Because he was one of the Marauders, I accepted him, but there was always something about him that didn't seem right.  Unfortunately, by the time Sirius figured out what exactly was wrong with Peter it was too late and his worst deed was done – the Potters were killed and Voldemort was destroyed in the same night.  That was when two lights were ruined – one was put out by Voldemort's evil shadow, and the other was faded by the breath of the dementors of Azkaban.

            Azkaban, the simple word causes many to shudder.  Sirius Black, one of my closest and truest companions, went through the horror of Azkaban firsthand.  Sirius, a marauder and practical joker, was unjustly placed in the prison.  The man told me, after he escaped, that he often looked forward to my visits for I have a gift of causing people to relive joyful, calming memories.  I will explain that later.  However, since Sirius's escape, he has become more of a joy to me than ever and, though it a secret to most, we are in love as we were before his imprisonment.

            Remus Lupin – are there truly words in any language that can describe how much help, friendship, and support he has given me?  I think not.  However, what can be said about Remus is that we are life-long companions – not lovers but like brother and sister.  I was there when the werewolf first bit him, and he found me after I was tortured by Voldemort.  The bond between us I proof enough that a friendship can remain true through the best and worst times.

            The eight people that I just mentioned not only kept me sane and alive but also helped me cope with an unwanted gift.  As an explanation – I was born with a unique gift.  If I touch anybody's bare skin with the bare palm of my hand they are forced to relive past memories.  Normally the memories are good ones, but every once in a while they are so horrifying that the person becomes traumatized.  When I was little, I didn't understand why I was not allowed to touch anyone – for babies and toddlers are very curious – thus I became very introverted and upset.  My uncle took me aside one day when I was about four years old and explained to me what was going on.  I cannot recall the exact words exchanged during that meeting, but I do know that that was when I began to wear skintight gloves with the fingers cut off so that I could still do things easily.

            A few weeks after my conversation with my uncle, a young boy and his parents moved into the house nearby.  The boy was very quiet, much like myself, but very friendly and polite when spoken to.  The boy's name was Remus Lupin and he and I became fast friends.  The two of us often wandered into the woods and it was there, one summer's day that we got lost.  Night fell and we still wandered.  Neither of us noticed that there was a full moon and neither of us knew that the events to come would change our lives and strengthen our friendship forever.

~ Patricia M. Knight

"The Auror of Night"

Hogwarts School

January 12, 1998

~*~

Please let me know what you think and tell me whether or not I should post the first chapter!  Reviews are much appreciated!

**~ Eleclyn Starmaker**


	2. Werewolves

**Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers.  The only thing that I want to lay claim to is Patricia.  If any one actually wants to use her in a story **yeah right** PLEASE ask me first.**

Author's Notes:  Yes, I realize now that I forgot a disclaimer on the prologue, so I posted it here.  I want to thank my first reviewers ever!  So: thank you Intuerimors, TMJ, and Flourishes!  Also – this chapter is definitely not my best writing.  I have to explain the premises here – this chapter goes back in time to where Remus and Patricia are four years old, and I don't write little kids very well, thus both of them may seem a little smart for their age – Patricia more so than Remus.  Please, if you are actually reading my story, bear with me on that because, like I said before, I don't write children very well.  Enough of my babbling, on with the story.

~*~

The Eight Lights – by Eleclyn Starmaker

Chapter 1 – Wolf Bites and Strengthened Friendships

            "Remmy, I think we're lost," four-year-old Patricia whispered to her best friend Remus.

            "I'm afraid so, Trisha," Remus answered, his voice trembling.  "Night's coming, Trisha, and I'm scared of the dark!"

            Patricia grabbed hold of Remus's hand and held it tightly.  "Don't worry, Remmy, nothing's here to be afraid of."  Little did she know how wrong she was.

            Darkness soon fell over the two children and Remus and Patricia huddled close to eachother.  The two of them jumped in fright as a loud, long howl split the warm night air.

            "Trisha . . . what was that?" Remus asked, holding onto Patricia's hand tighter than before.

            Before Patricia could answer, a huge gray wolf jumped through the brush right next to the two of them.  The wolf paused, sniffed the air, and headed right toward the two children.  Remus shrieked as the wolf neared them.  Patricia jumped in front of her friend to protect him but the wolf threw her aside with one giant paw.

            "Trisha!" Remus cried, salty tears running down his cheeks as the girl's hand was torn from his.  The wolf jumped forward and latched its huge jaws around the boy's arm.  A loud, high-pitched scream of pain echoed through the woods as the wolf's sharp teeth bit through Remus's flesh and muscle before hitting bone.  Ripping its fangs from the boy's arm, causing another howl of pain, the wolf let out a howl of its own before scampering back off into the woods.

            Patricia crawled slowly over to Remus's side, nursing a broken arm.  "Remmy?  Remmy!  Are you okay?"

            "It h . . . hurts, Trisha, it hurts!" Remus cried brokenly, grasping onto Patricia's robes tightly.

            Tears pricked the edges of Patricia's eyes. 'This is no time for crying!" she thought angrily.  'Think, Trisha!  What did Uncle Albus tell you about treating injuries – keep the person calm and put pressure on the cut to stop the bleeding!'

            Allowing a few tears of agony to fall as pain radiated through her broken arm, Patricia ripped the hem of her robes and carefully wrapped it tightly around the deep gash in Remus's arm.  "I'm sorry, Remmy," the little girl stammered as Remus whimpered and then cried out in pain as the cloth made contact with his wound.  The boy tightened his grip on Patricia's robe so that his knuckles were white.

            Seeing her friend's distress, Patricia looked at her hands.  Dumbledore had told her that if she touched someone with her palm then they would relive calming, happy memories.  Patricia stared at her hands.  Both gloves and fingers were stained with her friend's blood.  She knew the risk and knew it well, but seeing her friend like this scared her.  Slowly, Patricia peeled off her gloves and wiped her hands on her robes.  Praying to every god that she knew of, the child reached out and placed her palm against Remus's forehead.

            Remus jumped at the contact of Patricia's cool hand against his hot forehead but then he calmed as his mind slipped back into the past, forcing him to forget his current hurts.  He was back in his past, enjoying happy times with his parents and Patricia.  Memories turned into sweet dreams as the boy slipped into unconsciousness.

            Remus slumped against Patricia as he fell asleep.  Moving carefully, Patricia wrapped her arms around Remus and pulled him to her, stifling a cry at the pain in her broken arm.  "Everything's going to be all right, Remmy," Patricia sniffled.  "I won't let anything happen to you."  Patricia laid her cheek against the top of Remus's head and soon she too was asleep.

~*~

            "She must have somehow put him into a healing trance."

            "The wound is already half healed!"

            "What could have happened?"

            Remus was startled by the voices around him.  Were they real or merely in his dreams?  What was going on?  What had happened?

            "Quiet, the boy is waking!" a voice whispered.  Remus recognized it to be Albus Dumbledore's.

            Remus moaned and opened his eyes to find five worried faces peering down at him.  "Mommy . . . Daddy?  What are you doing here?  What happened?"

            "We were hoping you could tell us that, little one," Dumbledore answered kindly.

            "Trisha and I got lost and . . . wait!  Trisha!  Is she all right?  The last thing I remember is the wolf throwing her aside and then . . . nothing!  Tell me!  Is Trisha all right?"  Remus was panicked, the young boy truly wanted to know what had happened to his friend.

            Remus saw his and Patricia's parents' eyes widen at the mention of the wolf.  Dumbledore, however, remained calm.

            "You said there was a wolf, child?" the wizard asked, kneeling so that he was eye to eye with the little boy.

            Remus nodded.  "But where is Trisha?"  The boy saw Dumbledore glance at the other adults.  "What happened to her?"  The child was now not only panicked but also curious, as young children often are when their questions are constantly ignored.

            "Nothing that you should worry about, Remus," Dumbledore answered.  "Right now we should get you indoors."  The wizard reached down and unlatched a pair of arms that were encircled around the boy's chest, being careful not to touch the person' palms.

            Seeing Dumbledore do this, Remus twisted around to see who was behind him.  The boy gasped.  It was Patricia, her face pale and sickly looking and her arm bent at a strange angle.  The girl was leaning limply against the tree behind her and was unconscious.

            "Come, Remus," the boy's father, Robert, murmured, carefully easing his son into his arms.

            Nestled comfortably in his father's arms, Remus could not stop sleep from taking him.

            "I fear what may have happened to the two of them," Dumbledore proclaimed softly, taking his niece into his arms and rising.  "If the wolf that bit young Remus was the werewolf from the nearby village . . ."  The wizard let his words hang, for Remus's parents knew well the consequences of a werewolf bite.

            "What of Trisha?" Patricia's mother, Elizabeth, asked as she picked up her child's small, blood stained gloves.

            Dumbledore looked down at the little girl in his arms.  He understood why his sister was so worried about the child – Patricia was extremely small for her age and was constantly becoming ill.  However, the wizard knew that, while weak in body, the child was not weak in heart or mind.  "I'm sure she is fine, Lizzie, simply exhausted, for she has never used her powers willingly before."

            Elizabeth nodded, she and her husband sighing in relief.  The five of them, carrying the two children, turned from the forest and started back toward their homes.

~*~

            When Remus awoke again, he found himself lying in his bed, blankets covering him up to his chin, and his mother sitting by his side, holding onto his hand gently.

            "Mommy?" Remus whispered.

            "Oh, Remus, you scared us so when you did not return!" Remus's mother, Charlotte, exclaimed.

            "I'm sorry, Mommy," Remus murmured, tears pricking his eyes – he hated worrying his parents.

            "Little one, there is nothing to be sorry for."  Charlotte enveloped her son in a hug as he began to cry.  Once Remus's tears ceased their flow, his mother said, "Your father and I thought you would like to visit Patricia this afternoon, once you've rested and had lunch."

            Remus looked up at his mother's words.  "Why can't I go now?"

            Charlotte frowned at her son's response.  "You have been spending far too much time with that girl, Remus, you should be spending some of that time with your father and me.  Besides, had Patricia not insisted that you go into the forest with her then you wouldn't have been harmed!"

            Remus's bottom lip trembled as he fought to hold back tears.  Why would his mother say such a thing?

            "That was uncalled for, Charlotte," Robert exclaimed from the doorway.

            "But you know it is true, Robert.  If dear Remus hadn't gone into the woods with that wretched girl then none of this would have happened.  Now who knows what her 'powers' have done to him, let alone that wolf bite!"  Charlotte was completely hysterical now and she ran out of the room sobbing.

            Sniffling, Remus slid out of bed, changed into clean clothes, and started toward the door of his bedroom.

            "Where are you going, Remus?" Robert asked kindly.

            "I want to talk to Mr. Dumbledore," Remus answered softly.

            "About what, little one?"  Robert placed a hand on his son's shoulder.

            "Things," Remus replied, giving a normal childish answer.

            "All right, but be careful, Remus.  Your mother and I don't want you to get hurt again."

            "All right, Daddy," Remus murmured.

            As the boy slipped silently out of the house, he heard his parents arguing in their bedroom.  Finally allowing the tears to fall, Remus ran down the bath to Patricia's house and was soon standing on the doorstep, gulping down sobs.

            "Remus?" Elizabeth asked quietly as she opened the door.  "Little one, what's wrong?"

            "C . . . can I talk to Mr. Dumbledore?" Remus stuttered.

            "Of course, Remus.  He's upstairs in Trisha's room," Elizabeth answered gently.

Remus nodded and then scrambled up the stairs and down the hallway to Patricia's room.  Knocking softly, but receiving no answer, the boy pushed open the door. There was no sign of Dumbledore, but Patricia was there, asleep on a bed that was huge compared to her small, thin form.

"Trisha!" Remus exclaimed quietly, moving to sit on the bed next to the girl, taking her tiny gloved hand in his own. "I wish you were awake, I need someone to talk to."

Patricia whimpered in her sleep, turning onto her side and clutching the blankets to her chest.

Remus frowned at this and lay down next to Patricia, entwining his arms around her neck and holding her close to him. "Don't be afraid of nightmares, Trisha, I won't let them hurt you. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Those are valiant words, little one, much like the ones my nieces claimed to have said to you last night," a kind voice murmured after a few moments.

Remus looked up to find Albus Dumbledore sitting on Patricia's window seat.

"Will Trisha be all right, Mr. Dumbledore?"  Remus let go of Patricia, moving to sit across from Dumbledore on the window seat.  The boy gazed out the window – this was where he and Patricia often sat and simply talked, most often when Patricia was recovering from an illness and couldn't go outside.

"Of course she will be, Remus."  Dumbledore watched Remus closely – he felt horrible for the poor boy.  Patricia had been awake long enough to recount what had happened the night before.  Dumbledore immediately recognized, from Patricia's description, that the wolf was indeed the werewolf from the nearby village, and the consequences of Remus being bitten would soon be very grave.

"Patricia will be fine after a day or two of rest, Remus," Dumbledore clarified quietly.  Noticing the tear stains on the boy's cheeks, the wizard asked, "Is there any reason you came here?"

Remus swallowed hard.  "I wanted to ask you why parents fight."

Dumbledore stared at the boy for a moment before answering simply, "Why do you ask, Remus?"

"Because Mommy blamed Trisha for this," the child held up his arm to show Dumbledore the nearly healed cut, "and Daddy told her it wasn't true.  They were fighting just before I left.  They do that a lot – they yell and then Mommy starts crying and Daddy gets really upset . . ." Remus trailed off for a moment.  "Trisha's mommy and daddy never fight, so why do mine?  And it isn't really Trisha's fault for what happened, is it?"

Dumbledore smiled inwardly at Remus's lack of an expanded vocabulary.  The wizard was so used to talking to his niece, who had a huge vocabulary for someone her age, that he found Remus's lack of synonyms rather amusing.  Outside, though, Dumbledore was frowning.  The wizard thought hard, thinking over what Remus had said and searching for answers that a child could understand.

"Well, Remus, sometimes parents argue because they are angry – not necessarily at eachother though.  Before you moved here, did you argue with your friends over what game to play?" Dumbledore asked, gazing at the child over his half-moon spectacles.

Remus shook his head.  "I never had any friends before I met Trisha, and Trisha and I don't fight over what game to play."

"But do you understand what I mean?" Dumbledore questioned half-heartedly, still concentrating on what Remus had just said.

"I think so," Remus answered, nodding slowly.

"Good.  As for your other question – do you think it is Patricia's fault?"  Dumbledore watched Remus closely, trying to guess his answer before he said it.

The boy stared back at the wizard for a moment.  "No, I don't."

"Then why worry?"  Dumbledore smiled kindly.

Remus smiled back.  "Um, Mr. Dumbledore?  Could you tell me what happened last night?" 

"Of course."  Dumbledore told Remus what Patricia had told him.  Just as Dumbledore was explaining what Patricia had done to calm the boy, the girl in question awoke.

Hearing Remus gasp at whatever her uncle was telling him, Patricia giggled quietly and said, loudly enough for bother to hear, "You better not be telling Remmy scary stories again, Uncle!"

"Of course not, Patricia!" Dumbledore exclaimed in mock surprise as he rose and moved to Patricia's side.

Remus followed Dumbledore and scrambled up onto the bed to sit beside his friend.

"I'm glad to see that you're all right, Remmy, but you've been crying.  What happened?" Patricia asked softly as Remus pulled her into an embrace

Remus glanced at Dumbledore, who smiled, before answering.  "Don't worry about it, Trisha, it's been fixed."

Patricia looked over at her uncle, who winked at her, giving her a sign that all would be explained later.

"I was just telling Remus what I know about what happened last night," the wizard explained as the two children broke their embrace.

"Ohm" Patricia whispered, staring down at her gloved hands.

Dumbledore reached forward and covered the girl's tiny hands with one of his own, large ones.  "You did well, Patricia.  You did what you had to do.  No harm was done."

There was a silence in the room for a few moments before Remus spoke up once more.  "Mr. Dumbledore, sir, I still don't understand what Patricia did to help me."

Dumbledore smiled slightly.  "You will understand someday, little one.  For now, do not worry."

Remus nodded slowly as Dumbledore stood.  A sudden burst of shouting from downstairs interrupted the comfortable silence.

"Where is he?  Where is my son?"  Charlotte's panic-stricken voice echoed up the stairs.

"Uh oh," Remus whispered, grabbing Patricia's hand tightly.

Dumbledore smiled kindly, though his mind was racing.  "You two stay up here, all right?"

The two children nodded slowly and Dumbledore left the room.

~*~  
  


**Please let me know what you think!**

**~ Eleclyn Starmaker**


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